Disclaimer: Sadly, I own none of the Ab Fab glory. That is bloody terrible isn’t it?

A/N: This is supposed to be read with an English accent. Like on the show. I read it straight through and felt my brain function decrease. It just isn't the same without the accent. So imagine and English accent while reading this

--Chapter 1: Spiritual Healing--

Saffron Monsoon threw down her worn and oft-read copy of Jane Eyre angrily as she heard her mother calling. She had no doubt that Edina was pulling her away from the only reading time she’d gotten in days for something trivial and idiotic.

“Sweetie… Darling… Sweetie Darling, come help your mummy!” Edina yelled down the stairs to her daughter, pleading with her.

“What is it now? Do you want me to angle the mirror so you don’t look so fat?” she yelled up irritably to her mother.

“Never mind the insults, just get up here!” So it was that a thoroughly annoyed Saffy ascended the stairs to her mother’s bedroom, only to find Edina on the floor, surrounded by incense, candles, and other essentials needed for spiritual health.

“What is this all about? Are you trying to purify your soul or something? I hate to break it to you, but you’re too far gone for that!”

“Really bloody hilarious! Can’t you see that this is a full scale crisis? It is so like you to poke fun at a time like this, you’re jealous, that’s what! You’re jealous that I’m gorgeous and fabulous, and you, you’re surrounded by this cloud of… boring! I’m on top of the world, and you’re just a pathetic little uninteresting bit of human being!” Edina blathered on an on, as her daughter began to tsk impatiently.

“Well, that was a lovely speech, but if that’s all you wanted me for, I could be doing better things.”

“Oh, take your bloody sarcasm and stuff it.” Edina snapped “I need you to help me balance my chakras.”

“No.” Saffy said bluntly. “What’s the point anyway? You’ll just go out somewhere with Patsy and mess them up again anyway. Not that they’re even real…”

“Oh, I see how it is! You don’t want to help me, because you know I’ll die! This is life- threatening, I tell you! You just want me dead, so you won’t have to be compared to me anymore! OH! That’s it, isn’t it? You want me dead, because I make you look so much worse than you already are when people compare you to the fabulous me! Maybe I’ll just kill myself! That’s what you want, isn’t it? Isn’t it!”

“No… although I don’t see how you can die from something you can’t see.” Saffy reasoned.

“Has anyone ever seen Strepthroatcoccus Pneumonia? But people still die from it!”

Saffy sighed. This was getting difficult. “Actually, its scientific name is Streptococcus Pneumoniae, and yes, people have seen it. Both under the microscope and the symptoms those who have it exhibit”

“Well that’s not the point! The point is that my chakras are out of whack, my spiritual healer can’t see me for a week, and if they aren’t adjusted, I’m going to die! And I need your help to adjust them!”

Maybe she could pin this on someone else. “Can’t Patsy help you?”

“Patsy? No, she told me that she had an urgent appointment, so she couldn’t help.”

“An urgent appointment with the plastic surgeon…” Saffy muttered under her breath. Then to her mother, “All right, I’ll help you out with these ‘chakras’ but then I want you to let me have my peace!”

“Oh! Thank you sweetie, I knew you wouldn’t let mummy down!”

“Alright, what must I do?” So it was that Saffy held incense and chanted ridiculous “healing chants” over her mother, who writhed on the floor like she was being exorcised. When she had finally told Saffy that she was healed, she sprung from the floor like a new person and promply pushed her daughter out the door.

“Thanks, sweetie! Now, leave mummy alone so I can get ready to go to work!”

“If I recall, you were the one who dragged me away from my only reading time and forced me to perform those ridiculous chants! So I’m off, and remember you promised to let me have my peace!” Striding down the stairs, she heard her mother call “Oh, shut up!”. She chose to ignore this. She also ignored her mother, who stopped to say goodbye before she left (That one is new), until she saw the horridly gaudy, feathered turquoise dress she was wearing. Now, Saffy was used to her mother’s bizarre taste in clothes, but this poofy, feathered, crazy dress was not merely crossing lines, it was making a brake for freedom when the line-patrol officers had their backs turned.

“Mum! What in blazes are you wearing? You look like a tropical African bird!”

“It’s Lacroix, Darling.” Edina supplied simply. Just then, the doorbell rang. “Oh, that’ll be Pats!” Sure enough, Edina reappeared with Patsy in tow moments later. Patsy was donning similar clothes, only hers were black, with ghastly multicolored feathers poking out of her hair.

“Well, don’t you look absolutely horrible? What is that rubbish you’re wearing anyway?” Saffy looked from Patsy to her mother. “I guess ‘birds’ of a feather must stick together!” snickering at her own joke, Saffy turned back to her book.

“You want to see something heinous, look in the bloody mirror!” Patsy shouted at Saffy, rummaging around in the fridge for anything alcoholic.

“Pats and I have to get going, I’ll see you later sweetie, okay?” Edina said as Patsy took a bottle of wine and downed half, drinking straight from the bottle.

“Okay. Bye.” Saffy tried to concentrate on her book, but with these two idiots hollering, Charlotte Bronte’s elegant banter went in her eyes and stopped short of her brain. She was relieved when they departed, Patsy taking the rest of the wine with her. She had the rest of the day to herself, and what a glorious day it was shaping up to be! The lunatics were out of the house, all was peaceful, and she was ready for a little one on one time with Charlotte Bronte.

-- fin --

A/N: I actually had an English accent for awhile. It took me about a week to pick up and two bloody years to lose. People in the States still look at me like I'm a deranged idiot when I use British words (ex: wonky, pissed(as in drunk), bloody, absailing, etc). I still have it a little, as shown when I yell at people, or when I'm not concentrating on talking without it. This is my first Ab Fab Fic, so if you don't like it, please don't hurt me. I don't much like it, but I thought I'd give it a go anyway.